


Vansihed

by Alotua



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death Eaters, F/M, Forced Bonding, Hogwarts, Memory Loss, Mistaken Identity, Out of Character, Road Trip - but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-04 10:31:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alotua/pseuds/Alotua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waking up in a field in the middle of nowhere, with no memory of who they are or how they got there, Draco and Ginny must work together to return to Hogwarts and solve the mystery of what happened to them.</p><p>Written for the 2014 Draco/Ginny Fic Excahnge. Nominated for Funniest Fic, Best Portrayal of Ginny Weasley, and Best Interpretation of the Prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In a Field

**Author's Note:**

> This story is an AU of sixth year with some significant changes to the timeline. Draco fixes the vanishing cabinet much earlier than in cannon, leading to the Hogwarts invasion happening only two weeks into the school year. This also causes some smaller things to change; Quidditch tryouts are delayed, Stan Shunpike isn't arrested until later, etc. Because of memory loss, some characters may seem OOC at times.

She woke up. 

The sky was that greyish blue shade that meant it was dusk. Or early morning. 

It was cold and damp. There was grass against her cheek. For some reason she appeared to be laying on her side on the ground outside. 

She rolled her head to the side and immediately regretted it when it sent a sharp pain up her neck. The pain seemed to be a sort of signal to the rest of her body, which started sending alternate waves of numb and sore vying for her attention.

She tried moving her arm and gave a moaning cry when it didn't move. The strangled sound coming from her own throat startled her. She lay still for a moment, confused and becoming a little frightened.

Where was she? How did she get outside?

She lay still, breathing in and out. Minutes passed, or maybe she drifted back into unconsciousness. When she came to herself again the sky was brighter. With trembling arms, she pushed herself into a sitting position.

She was in a field of dried brown grasses and weeds. In the distance there were a few sparse trees. Nothing looked familiar. She tried to stand and fell head-first back to the ground. Her arms and legs felt numb and shaky, and sitting up again was harder the second time.

She tried to rise again, more carefully this time. She managed to get to her feet and stay there. Carefully, she looked around: weeds and grasses, trees in the distance. She turned around on unsteady legs and spotted a dilapidated hut behind her. Laying in the grass between her and the hut was a body.

Taking a step towards it, she almost lost her balance. It looked like a young man, with a tuft of pale blond hair that stood out starkly against his black robes. She stumbled towards him and then dropped down by his side. With numb hands, she reached out and rolled him over.

He was breathing.

Her hand shook as she reached out to jostle his shoulder. "Hey," she called out hoarsely, then cleared her throat and tried again. "Hey, are you alright? Wake up!"

She called out again, and just as she began to fear that he wouldn't respond, he groaned and swatted weakly at her hand on his shoulder.

"Ow," he groaned, voice slurred, "what the 'ell?" 

His eyes blinked open and slowly focussed on her face. "What happened? What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," she said, a little indignantly. "You were just laying here. I thought you were dead."

"Dead? Am I dying? Where is this place... and who the hell are you?"

"I don't think you’re dying. I'm... I don't know where this is. Who are you, anyway?" The more she spoke, the steadier her voice became. However, as she tried to answer his questions the pain in her head became worse. She felt exhausted.

"I asked you first," he'd sat up and was rubbing his head with both hands when he saw something about his sleeve that made him squawk.

"Ah! My shirt's torn!" the look of dismay on his face made her snort--a regrettable move, as it set her head to pounding even worse--which drew his attention back to her. "What happened to your face? You look like you've been through a fire."

"Do I?" She rubbed absently at her face. "You don't look much better yourself, you know." 

"What happened?" He asked again, sounding befuddled and helpless.

"I don't know," she said reluctantly, "I'd hoped maybe you could tell me. I woke up over there," she pointed vaguely, "I don't know where this is, or how I got here... I don't know who I am."

"What do you mean you don't know who you are? Do you expect me to believe that?"

"Are you calling me a liar? For all I know, you're the one who did this!"

"Me? I don't think so, I don't just... attack strangers!"

"How do I know that?"

"I just told you!"

"And I'm to take your word for it, am I?"

He bristled. "Don't presume to question the honor of my word. I am..." He trailed off, looking pale. He clutched at his hair and said weakly, "what did you do to me?"

She snorted. "Not that again! Look we're not getting anywhere like this. Clearly something terrible has happened. Maybe for now, we'd be better off working together to try and get... I don't know. Get some answers."

So saying, she struggled up to her feet again, finding the process easier this time. "Come on, there's a hut over there. We can try and get warm, and maybe find some answers." 

She had extended her hand to him as she spoke, and he sat looking at it dubiously for a moment before reaching out to clasp it. His hands felt like ice. "Okay" he said, and then levered himself up with her help, almost knocking them both to the ground it the process. 

"Merlin's balls, that hurts!" He said. "Why does it hurt so much?"

She didn't have an answer for him. His litany of complaints continued as they hobbled their way over to the hut, nearly exhausting themselves on the way. She was sore and tired and freezing cold! Apparently he felt just as bad, and wasn't shy about voicing it. 

Unfortunately, when they got to the hut it became apparent that it was more of a shack, and one that had seen much better days. The roof was sagging, the door falling off its hinges, and the windows were broken in places. It looked like some squirrels or something had taken up residence at some point, as there was a big animal nest of some kind in the corner. At least she hoped it was only squirrells. She didn't have the energy to investigate further though, instead she sank down on the floor to rest. Then something the boy was saying caught her attention.

"Where's my wand?" He had sunk down on the floor next to her, but apparently his exhaustion didn't affect his tongue. His head swivelled slowly from side to side as if he expected his wand to just magically appear. "I could start a fire if I had my wand."

"Is it in your pocket?" She asked and began searching her own pockets for her wand. Her wand was missing, she realized with a sudden feeling of dread. She hadn't even thought to look for it till he'd said that.

"No," he said, as he rummaged through his own pockets.

"Shit! What are we going to do?"

"Don't panic," he said, and the sudden calm in his tone made her furious for some reason. She was supposed to be the calm one--he'd done nothing but whine since she'd woken him!

"They must be around here somewhere," he said, and then pushed himself off the floor. He began walking back outside, where they'd come from, and she hastily dragged herself up to follow.

He'd barely gone five steps out the door when he cried out in relief. "Ah ha! Here it is!"

He bent over and had to steady himself with his spare hand as he picked up a ten inch long wand made of some sort of pale wood. He stood up and swayed a bit, then continued walking around. 

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"Looking for your wand," he said, and kept walking. She began looking too, forgetting that a moment ago she'd been angry at him. She still felt that dread though. But even that was forgotten when he called out again, some moments later, and bent down a second time, this time coming up with a somewhat longer wand made of an orangish wood.

"My wand!" She hurried over and snatched it from his hands. The moment she had it in her grasp, she felt better. It was as if a part of her which she hadn't even noticed was missing had been restored.

"Now, I want fire," he said, already heading back to the hut. She followed at a more sedate pace, and was glad for it when he almost walked into the doorway, knocking the door off its hinges for good. It fell with a rotten splintering sound amidst the boy's cursing. 

Once inside the meager shelter on the shack, the boy lit a small fire with his wand, and they both sat down to warm themselves by its bright blue flames. Many moments passed by in silence, and when she looked over at her companion she found him dozing, with his head bent forward, chin resting on his chest. His hair looked so fine and soft by the fire's blue light, almost ethereal, and his long eyelashes and sharp facial features made him look nearly girl-pretty. He'd be handsome if he wasn't so annoying while awake, she idly thought.

Then she must have dozed off herself, for she next woke to the thumping of old cupboard doors and the boy's annoyed muttering. She also might have been awoken by the gnawing hunger in her stomach. 

"What time is it?" She asked. 

"Noonish."

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for something to eat in the blasted place. There’s water in that tin cup over there,” he said, pointing vaguely behind him.

Sure enough, there was a dented tin cup filled with water next to the fire. The sight of it made her aware of how dry and foul tasting her mouth was.

"Thanks," she muttered, and helped herself to a long drink. “where’d you find the water?”

He spared her a scornful glance and pulled his wand from his pocket to wiggle it mockingly at her. Oh yeah, magic. She scowled at his back as he returned to his search. 

Other bodily requirements made themselves known to her, and she stepped outside to take care of them. When she came back in, the boy was still kicking up dust in his search, so she decided to join him.

It didn't take long to go through the cupboards; this had been a small cabin to begin with, and there wasn't much left of it's original furnishings. There was a little kitchen, the cupboards all bare save a few more animal nests (only one occupied, fortunately, by a family of mice). One wall was taken up by a stone fireplace with an old bottomless cauldron in the hearth. There was a tall, empty cabinet with its doors askew and a toppled chair in front of it. When she tried to set it upright, both of the chair's front legs broke off. There was also a tiny back room with the skeleton of an old metal bed frame and not much else in it. As it was, their search turned up nothing more edible than a handful of acorns which a squirrell had stashed in a pot in one of the cupboards.

"Well, can you conjure something?" She asked, once they'd both given up and returned to sit by the fire. She'd found a moldy old, moth-eaten blanket in a closet in the back room, and now sat with it wrapped around her shoulders. She'd offered to share it with the boy but he'd declined, indicating that it's smell was more offensive than the cold.

"You can't just conjure food!" he grumbled, his voice muffled from behind his arms wrapped around his knees. He looked cold.

"Oh," she said, and then, in an entirely different tone of voice, "Oh!" She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of sweets which she'd noticed earlier, when she'd been looking for her wand.

"We can multiply these though!" She said.

"Yeah," he said, "If you know the spell."

"I do!" And to demonstrate her knowledge, she waved her wand and with a few words there were suddenly twice as many colorfully wrapped candies in her hand. She offered her hand out to him. "I mean, I know it isn't real food, but at least it's something, right? Do you have anything edible in your pockets?"

Unfortunately he didn't, other than the stash of nuts he'd found during their earlier search. But a thorough investigation of the contents of his pockets did turn up something else of interest. In an inside pocket of his robe he found a crumpled note addressed to "Draco," which he figured must be him. 

"That's my name!" He said to her, "It's got to be! What about you; you should see if you've got anything with your name on it." 

But she wasn't quite so lucky. All she found was a handkerchief with an embroidered "G" in one of her pockets. They then toyed with the possibility of her name being Gail, Gladys, or Grace while they popped candies in their mouths, but none of those names sounded quite right to her. Nothing at all sounded right it seemed, and she quickly got frustrated with guessing.

"Fine then, keep going by 'girl' and 'hey you'! It doesn't matter to me," Draco said, equally frustrated. She glared at him but didn't reply, then looked away, sucking spitefully on a hard candy. Her headache was back. 

"What about a nickname, just for now?" He suddenly said.

"Oh Merlin!" She groaned; She could just guess the kind of unflattering nicknames he might come up with. But he surprised her.

"Hear me out! I mean, I know it's not likely to be your real name, but it starts with a 'g' and I think it might suit you. What would you think of being called Ginger? Just temporarily, I mean." 

"I guess it's better than 'girl' or 'hey you'," she said. It was also better than Gretchen, Georgina, Griselda, or a few of the other unfortunate 'g' names she'd been thinking of. "Okay, why not. Ginger."

"Good," he said. "It's nice to meet you, Ginger."

"Nice to meet you too, Draco."

They smiled at each other across the fire. But eventually hunger got the better of them again. 

"Maybe those mice you found..." Draco started to say, and trailed off.

"Oh, gross! I'm not that hungry yet," she said, but then her stomach growled loudly. "Although... do you think there're rabbits around here."

"I don't know. Why? What do you have in mind?"

In the end, Ginger stepped outside, cast a summoning charm for a rabbit, and got to work skinning it. Draco couldn't watch, so she had him fill a pot with water using the aquamenti spell and set it to boiling above his little fire. Then they boiled the rabbit and had a thin soup for late-lunch/early-supper. They were so hungry that even Draco, who said it was the worst soup he'd ever had (as if he had a frame of reference at the moment), ate it all.

Exhausted, they went to bed shortly after that. Ginny cast an engorgement charm on the moldy blanket, and after a couple of scourgifies she convinced Draco to share it with her. As soon as they were huddled up underneath the still-moldy smelling blanket, they were both deeply asleep.

* * * * *

It could have been the whimpering that woke her, but more likely it was the sharp kick to the knee that did it. She sat up, still groggy, and tried to orient herself. She was in some sort of shack, and it was dark, save for the flickering whitish-blue light cast by a merrily dancing little flame nearby. There was a boy she didn’t recognize beside her who was tossing in his sleep.

After a moment of alarmed confusion, the memories of yesterday’s events returned to her in bits and pieces. The boy next to her was Draco--or so they assumed his name was--and he seemed to be stuck in some nightmare. She called his name, and reached out to him. As soon as her hand touched him, he let out a gasp and woke with a start.

“Hogwarts!” He said.

“What?”

“Huh?”

“You were having a nightmare…”

“Hogwarts,” he said, settling down, rubbing at his forehead. “Something bad…”

“Hogwarts… School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Was that what you were dreaming about?”

“Don’t remember,” he said groggily, “but something really bad has happened… maybe will happen…”

“Like a premonition, you mean? I don’t know, it was probably just a nightmare.”

“No! It happened, or ‘s gonna… such an awful feeling… gotta, Hogwarts...”

Then, after naming the school clearly one more time, he mumbled a bit and was back asleep. She lay awake a moment, to see if he would go back to thrashing, but he only mumbled a bit and turned onto his side. Soon she drifted back to sleep herself.

* * * * *

After waking up the next morning, they broke their fast on Draco's squirrel-hoard of nuts and some stringy carrots they'd found growing in the remnants of a garden out back. Then, it was time to make a decision. 

Should they stay another day and wait for help, or would they be better off striking out and looking for someone? 

There were several problems with the second option. Primarily, they didn't know where they were nor where to head to find assistance. If they struck out randomly they might well end up in a worse situation than they were now. But, they had no idea who, if anyone, might be looking for them. Likely, they had been in some kind of magical accident--that sort of thing was fairly common after all--but something about that theory didn't sit right with Ginny. As for Draco, after his formless nightmare the night before, Draco was determined that they should move out, and he knew just where he wanted to go.

"I mean it makes sense. Neither of us can be more than sixteen or seventeen; we've got to be students, or at least former students. Hogwarts is a school--I don't remember it, but I know that. It makes sense to head there. That's probably where we belong, and even if it isn't, I'm sure there'll be somebody who can help us there. Right?"

"I guess it's as good a destination as any. You're probably right; we must be students somewhere. But even so, how are we going to find Hogwarts? I haven't the faintest idea where we are, or what direction we're to go in. And even if we knew which way to go, how would we get there? Walking? I'm pretty sure I don't know how to apparate, and even if I did, I'd probably splinch myself in this condition. We don't have brooms, nor fare for the bus--"

"The bus! Why didn't I think of that!" Draco said. He was so excited that he stood up and grabbed his wand. Afraid that he would try to summon it right then and there, Ginger jumped after him and grabbed his wand arm.

"Didn't you hear me, I said we don't have money to pay the fare!"

"Nonsense! The bus is for stranded wizards in situations just like this. I'm sure they'd understand--we could go to Hogwarts or a hospital, and once we've got our memories sorted out we'd repay the fare then! I'm certain I'm good for it."

"I suppose..." Ginger said, but for some reason the whole idea made her uneasy. She'd have preferred walking, impossible as that was. But she could tell that there'd be no stopping Draco now that he'd gotten hold of this idea. And really, she didn't know of any reason why it shouldn't work. 

"Come on, what could go wrong? This is it, this is our ticket to getting home, to finding out who we are!"

He was looking at her with such bright intensity, his grey eyes shining, he seemed to be imploring her to agree. If she said no, she wondered, would he even listen to her? Aside from waking up together, they had no idea who they were, what they meant to each other, or how they ended up here together. They must know each other; would he normally listen to her? Would he listen to her now? She didn’t even know why she was so hesitant to agree to his idea.

He was so clearly excited too, more excited than she'd yet seen him, and he did have a point. This might be their chance to get some answers.

"Alright," she said, "lets do it." 

"This'll work," he said, and reversed their grip so that he was squeezing her arms. He fairly burst with excitement. "Brilliant idea, Ginger!" Then, giving her arms a final squeeze , he turned and fairly skipped out the door.

"Oh no! Don't credit me," she said, following him outside. "I may have thought of the bus, but this wasn't my idea. If this blows up in our faces, I want to be the one to say 'I told you so.'"

"Deal! And when this works, I'll be the one to say 'see, I told you so.' Now, who does the honours?"

"Your idea, you do it."

"Um, right," he said, and seemed to lose some of the wind from his sails. She waited a moment, and he fidgeted somewhat with his wand, looking around.

"Oh, don't tell me! You've forgotten how to summon the Knight Bus, haven't you?"

"Yes!" He said, relieved. "Would you mind?"

"Not a problem," she said, and stuck out her wand hand. If it seemed a little odd to her that he'd forgotten how to call the bus when she had no problem remembering, she didn't say anything about it.

With a loud bang that startled them both, the Knight Bus appeared. It was an improbably tall, hideously purple monstrosity that lurched to a halt in front of them in a spray of pebbles. The door snapped back with a hiss and a young man with a pock marked face stepped out.

“Welcome to the Knight Bus,” he said, “emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike and I will be your conductor this evening. How may I be of assistance?”

The conductor finished his little speech, seemed to look at his potential passengers for the first time, and started grinning at Ginger, puffing his thin chest out. She cleared her throat little self-consciously. "Um, actually, we've had a bit of an accident. We've somehow gotten ourselves stranded out here, and we need to get to Hogwarts. I'm afraid we haven’t got any money on us at the moment."

"I'm sorry, miss. No money, no ride." Stan said, his grin fell away and he started to turn away.

"Now wait just a minute, Stan," the driver piped up. "You say you kids are from Hogwarts? How'd you get way out here, isn't it the middle of term?"

"Well--" Ginger started and was interrupted by Draco.

"We were practicing apparating and had a little accident. Somehow we wound up here, We were really lucky we didn't get splinched. As you might guess, we're not so keen on repeating the experience, but if we don't get back soon we're going to be in more trouble than we already are. Can't we come to some sort of arrangement?"

"Apparratin'?" Said the conductor, with a dubious expression. "Ain't choo a little young for that?"

"Ah come on, Stan. Lighten up. Weren't that long ago you was that young," Said the driver with a wink. "A'right kids, we'll give you a ride to Hogsmeade. That's 's far as we go. Gettin’ back onto school grounds'll be up to you."

"Thank you so much!" Ginny said, as she climbed onto the bus ahead of Draco. "We'll make up the fare as soon as possible. I promise!"

The inside of the Knight bus was lined with two rows of squishy arm chairs. There were several passengers on this floor of the bus already. One of then, a cross-looking, middle-aged witch in yellow robes demanded to know what the hold up was as the two teens were getting on. Ginger murmured an apology and went to settle into the first armchair with an empty seat adjoining it, when Draco grabbed her arm.

"Let's try the second level," he suggested

She didn't want to cause any more of a delay than necessary, but that witch in the yellow dress was still giving them the stink-eye, so Ginger decided not to argue. She let Draco lead her to where a wooden spiral staircase led to the second level of the bus. The second level turned out to be much like the first, only much less crowded. There were only two occupants up here. A wizard in a bright blue tophat sat near the staircase reading the Quibbler, and in the front ot the bus a balding wizard was drinking tea. Draco and Ginger sat next to each other midway between the two, and not a moment too soon. just as they took their seats the bus took off with a lurch that made the chairs skid half a meter along the floor.

"This is rather exciting," Draco confided to her. "I don't think I've ever been on here before."

She bit back a snide inquiry into how he could tell, given their condition. He had a look of genuine wonder on his face, and something about the expression seemed to light up his features. His cool grey eyes glittered and there was a little bit of colour in his normally pale cheeks. It made him look innocent and charming. She smiled at him.

"I'm glad to see your enjoying yourself," she said. "To tell the truth, I don't know whether I've been on here before either."

"You must have, you knew how to summon it."

"I think someone taught me that..."

"Someone? Are you starting to remember?"

"No. Nothing more than before, I think. It's just a feeling I have..."

"Oh," he said, looking a little disappointed, "Too bad."

They lapsed into silence then, Draco staring with interest out the window as the bus jumped through different scenery. After a while the bus stopped and Stan, the conductor, stuck his head up the stairwell and announced their destination. The man in the blue top hat shoved the Quibble he'd been reading into his robes as he stood up and then went down the stairs, leaving them alone on this floor with the black-clad wizard.

Ginger glanced over at the other remaining passenger as the bus took off again with another lurch, and noticed with a start that he was staring at them. His eyes were large and red-rimmed underneath bushy, grey eyebrows. His lip twitched as she watched him, but he didn't look away, forcing her to break eye contact first.

"Draco," she murmured, leaning over towards her companion, "That man is staring at us."

"What?" He said, glancing at her and then looking around at the other passenger. His eyes narrowed a little and he gave the stranger a brief glare and then looked back out the window.

"Just ignore him," he said quietly. "He's probably just some sort of creep. I'm sure he won't bother either of us as long as it's clear we're here together."

"I'm sure you're right," she said with more confidence than she felt. "I hope we get to Hogsmeade soon, though."

She kept an eye on the stranger out of the corner of her eye, occasionally glancing at Draco. After more time than she was comfortable, the bald wizard finally looked away, allowing her to relax marginally. The whole thing had made her unreasonably nervous, and she found herself wishing that the wizard in the top hat had left his copy of the Quibbler when he departed so she had something to distract herself with.

After a few more stops, Stan finally came up the stairs again and called not for them, but for the other wizard.

"Mr. Blande," he said, "Your stop."

"Ah, Mr. Shunpike," he said, in a surprisingly nasally voice, "Could you help me with my bag?"

Stan came the rest of the way onto their level and approached the black-clad, bony wizard. Mr. Blande only had the one bag, but he seemed to be busy fussing with something in his pocket. Blande murmured his thanks, and the two shuffled down the aisle. As they were passing between Ginger and Draco, the balding wizard seemed to trip, and grabbed onto Draco's arm to steady himself. Stan was suddenly in front of Ginger with his wand clenched in his free hand pointed at her, his acne scarred face blank of emotion.

"Give me you wands," demanded the stranger, mr. Blande. Like the conductor, he had his wand out and was jamming it into Draco's side. "Now, or you're both dead!"

Ginger, thinking fast, reached into the pocket where her wand was. Stan didn't seem to be paying very close attention, maybe she could... But even as she was thinking that, Draco pulled out his wand, a spell ready on his lips, when the stranger froze him in his seat with a full body binding jinx. Stan's hand, fast as a striking snake, clamped onto her wrist with bruising force. The bag he'd been holding fell to the floor with a thump.

"Bad idea. This is a warning, next time's the real thing!" The wizard said, prying Draco's wand out of his stiff fingers. "Crucio!"

Draco, still frozen, tremorred in his chair, his face first losing all colour then becoming blotchy. Before Ginger could do more then draw in a breath, ready to scream, it stopped. 

Stan pulled her hand from her pocket, released her wrist, and plucked her wand from fingers gone suddenly numb. His face was still eerily impassive as he handed the wand to Mr. Blande, then picked up the dropped bag. His wand remained leveled on her the whole time.

"Now I'm going to release you from the bind," Blande said, as he pocketed their wands. "You're both going to get up, and you're not going to scream or try anything else. In fact you're not going to say a single word, got it? We're going to go downstairs and get off this bus. Remember, not a single word, or I'll curse you both dead, and everyone else on this bus too!"

Blande grabbed Draco's upper arm and dug his wand into the blond's side. Only then did he release the body bind. Daco sagged in his chair, supported by Blande's grip, and shuddered.

"Get up!" Blande ordered. "Both of you."

At the same time, Stan jabbed his wand at her and purple sparks shot out, stinging her where they landed on her skin. She stood up with a small yelp.

"Stop-!" Draco cut off with a grunt as Mr. Blande jabbed him again with his wand and levered him out of his chair with surprising strength.

"Not a word! You'll come down the stairs with me and Stan here, and say not one word to no one. Got it?"

Draco nodded with a wince, Ginger following suit.

"Good," he said and began leading Draco down the stairs. Stan jerked his head after them, and Ginger followed, with Stan behind her and his wand pointed at her back.

"Ah, kids," Erni called out as they came onto the first level and headed towards the exit, "Are you gettin’ off here?"

"Oh, we had some good fortune upstairs, bumping into each other," said Mr Blande, his nasally voice sounding jovial. "This is my nephew and his friend. Didn't expect to see them on the bus today; they're supposed to be at Hogwarts after all! The little scamps sneaked out it seems. His mum would be real cross if she knew, so it's a good thing they ran into me and not her. I'm taking them out to lunch to get the full tale of it from them, then I'll send 'em back to Hogsmeade by floo."

"Well that is a lucky break," Erni said, "You gonna pay their fare for 'em too?"

"What? I guess you forgot to mention that upstairs," he said to Draco with a smile that looked like a grimace to Ginger's eye. Draco shrugged. "Nevermind, of course I'll pay for my nephew and his friend. How much do I owe you?"

Mr. Blande handed the money over with more supposed good cheer, then clamped his hand heartily on Draco shoulder.

"Get the bag, would you, sport."

Stan held the bag out to Draco. Ginger watched Mr. Blande’s grip on Draco’s shoulder tightened until he reached out and took the bag.

"Alright, we'd better hurry now if we're to get lunch and get you back to Hogwarts on time. Don't want to be late!"

They exited the bus, Draco first, with Mr Blande frog-marching him along, and Ginny left to follow behind with Stan's vaguely focused eyes on her back till the bus doors slid shut behind her. The bus popped away, and with it's departure Ginger had a giddy moment of realization. The odds had just shifted in her favor.

Mr. Blande had his back to her, and his attention was on Draco, who had started giving a token resistance by way of sagging his weight, and forcing Blande to adjust his grip so he was leveraging him up. Blande's bag made a clunk against the pavement as it slipped from Draco's slackened grasp. Blande then jabbed his wand into Draco's side with a muttered curse, eliciting a yelp of pain.

"Pick it up!" He hissed.

Ginger scampered to obey, snatched the bag off the ground, then, turning as if to retreat, she lifted it up high and swung around in a circle, bringing the bag down hard on Blande’s head as she completed her pirouette. He grunted and lost his grip on Draco, who stumbled away. Ginger, following up her attack, grappled with Blande till she was facing him, then gave him a good hard knee to the groin. He collapsed to the ground, wheezing, and she kicked him right in the face. His head whipped back with the force of it, nose making a sickening crunch, and he stopped moving.

"Holy shit, Ginger!" Draco said, gaping at her as he staggered to the side.

She tossed her red hair back from her face. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes glittered dangerously. She glanced at Draco then looked back at their would-be captor. Seeing his chest rise and fall, making a wet sputtering sound as air escaped through his smashed nose, Ginger drew back her foot and gave him one more good kick, this time to the ribs. Then, she crouched over Blande and started searching through his pockets for their wands.

"Holy shit," Draco repeated, in a tone of bewildered admiration.

"Well don't just stand there," she said, pulling out her and Draco's wands. She tossed him his, which he caught with minimal fumbling, and used her own to cast stupify on the already somnolent man. "See if he has anything useful in his bag."

Without really questioning her direction, Draco found himself obeying her. If he'd had to describe her just then, the only word he could have used was "wild." Or maybe "beautiful." He hadn't been expecting rescue. If anything, he'd been desperately trying to think of a way to get them out of the situation himself. The sudden change in circumstances was giving him vertigo.

"Draco, come look at this."

Again, he found himself yielding to her instruction, as he came to see what had caught her attention. Ginger had lifted up the man's sleeve on his left arm, revealing a dark tattoo of a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth.

"But that's--"

"The Dark Mark." She said.

"I don't understand. Why would a Death Eater want to capture us? That doesn't make any sense."

"Doesn't it? Kidnapping, torture, murder: that's what Death Eaters do."

"But it doesn't make any sense. We're just a couple of Hogwarts students."

"For all we know. Anyway, weren't you the one who had the premonition of something bad happening at Hogwarts? Maybe this is related. Did you find any clues in that bag?"

"No," he said, "nothing."

They debated then whether or not to summon the Aurors. Ultimately they decided against it; after all, look at what happened when they did even so ordinary a thing as taking the Knight Bus. But that still left them stranded they didn't know where, and with no means of getting to anyplace familiar--wherever that might be.

They’d begun to wander, just for something to do, and Ginger had started up a debate, arguing that they should try and use some muggle device to seek help, since they appeared to be lost in some muggle city. She didn’t honestly think it would accomplish anything, but as the adrenalin from earlier wore off she found herself desperate to do something, even if it meant babbling. Then suddenly Draco interrupted her.

“Wait a minute,” he said, stopping in his tracks. “I think I recognize this place.”

“You do?” she asked, taken aback by the abrupt declaration.

“Yes! I’ve been here before!” he said, getting excited. He began walking again, picking up speed quickly, and she had to hurry to keep up. “This is… I think--yes, we must be in London! There’s a back entrance to Diagon Alley around here!”

“A back entrance? There’s no such thing! The only entrance is through the Leaky Cauldron.”

“You’re wrong. This way, I’ll show you!”

He led her to a seedy-looking establishment. It was a small building, squeezed between its neighbors, with a faded, cracked sign that read "Corner Shop". She followed him inside with no little misgivings. Inside was not as cramped as she was expecting, but it was just as dusty and grimy as the exterior had led her to believe it would be. Draco led her to the counter, past shelves lined with dusty candles, soaps, and various other sundries. At the counter was a tall, thickset witch with a mole between her eyebrows who was smoking a pipe.

"What do y’ want?" She asked in a surprisingly deep voice.

"We'd like to use the loo," Draco said with authority. Actually, that didn't sound like a bad idea; Ginger hadn't had a chance to relieve herself since they're left the hut this morning, but it did seem like a bit of an odd moment to bring it up.

"That'll be six sickles," the woman at the counter said.

"What!?" Ginger protested, but Draco shushed her, and then drew six silver coins out of his pocket. 

That silenced her more than his shushing did. Where did he get that money? The woman at the counter took the coins and handed over a key with a bit of wood attached by a knotted hemp cord. Draco took the key and began leading Ginger down a dimly lit hallway beside the counter.

"Where did you get that money?" She hissed at him.

"I got it from Blake's bag. You had me go through it, remember?"

"I thought you didn't find anything!"

"I didn't. Nothing important anyways."

They'd reached a door with a moon and star symbol on it, and Draco stopped and inserted the key in the lock. He opened the door and entered, so Ginger stopped, but he gestured impatiently for her to follow. Baffled, she complied. 

Inside, it appeared to be a typical, if a little dirty, loo, with a sink, a urinal, and a stall. Draco shut the door behind him, then turned what to her looked like a deadbolt lock. Next he opened the door again, and she followed him out, still confused. What had been the point of all that?

They returned down the short hallway, and Draco turned and dropped the key back on the counter. That's when Ginny realized that they were no longer in the same store. Though the dusty merchandise on the shelves appeared much the same, the person at the counter was not the same woman who had been there when they entered the store. Instead, a stout bald man with a tattoo of a bat on the side of his scalp was manning the counter. He took the key with barely a glance at the two of them and put it somewhere out of sight under the counter.

Another noticeable change was that this shop had other customers in it. There was a man leafing through some magazines who looked up as they walked past. Catching Ginger's gaze, he did a double take.

"Ginny?" The stranger said.

Ginger stopped and stared at the man. He was short, and a little bedraggled, with straggly ginger hair. She didn't recognize him at all, but it seemed he recognized her.

"You recognize me?" She asked.

"Of course I recognize you," he said, glancing uneasily around. "But what are you doing here? Does your mother know you're here Ginny?"

"Hey," said Draco, "Hey, do you know who I am?"

The man gave Draco a funny look and opened his mouth, then, his eyes shifted a little and went suddenly wide.

"Who're you friends here, Mundungus?" A new stranger had walked up behind Draco. He was tall and heavily muscled, with a short, thick neck and long arms. He grabbed a magazine off the shelf, glanced at it then tossed it on the floor, and leered at the short guy who knew Ginger. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"A-ah, that's okay, They were just leaving. In fact, so was I!"

"Leaving so soon? Don't tell me this is about that money you owe me? What, didn't want your nice young friends to know about what a cheap bastard you are?"

"No! I-I've got your money! Actually, I-I was meaning to come find you--!"

"Too late, Dung," the new stranger said, fake-friendly veneer vanishing. "The due date came and went. You'll still pay me, but first I'll--"

Suddenly, Mundungus darted to the side, making a break for it. Instantly, the big guy had his wand out and started blasting curses. Mundungus darted behind a shelf and started firing back. Draco grabbed Ginger by the arm and pulled her down and away. They started running as more customers joined in the firefight, and curses began flying every which way through the shop. As they made the door, a glass jar of pickled somethings exploded on a shelf next to Ginger's head.

Draco ran into the door, slamming it open, and kept running onto the street. He nearly bumped into a witch in orange-brown robes, and had to release Ginger's arm to keep his balance.

“Don’t stop," he said, slowing down to a fast walk. "Keep your head down.”

“Wasn’t planning on stopping,” she hissed, under her breath. She glanced over her shoulder, and to the sides, trying to spot if they were being pursued.

“Stop looking around so obviously, you look like a mark.”

She glared at him. “Just shut up and get us out of here, already.”

“I’m trying,” he said, looking pale. Suddenly, Ginger/Ginny wondered if he had remembered something. Or maybe he just knew more than he was telling her. Now wasn’t the time to grill him about it, but just as soon as they were somewhere safer she’d get him to tell her what he knew.

They hurried, heads down, along the lane.

“Slow down a bit,” Ginny said, and grabbed Draco’s arm. She tucked her elbow around his. He glanced down at her--he was just a few inches taller than her--and raised an eyebrow. “you don’t want to look suspicious. Nobody else is sprinting down the street.”

Indeed, no one else was running down the street, but everyone did seem to be moving quickly. In fact, people on this street were all noticeably avoiding eye-contact, and seemed very intent on minding their own business. There was a nervous air to the street, although maybe that was just Ginny’s imagination, after the firefight in the shop. Then suddenly she realized what was wrong.

"Draco!" She hissed, "This isn't Diagon Alley; it's Knockturn Alley!"

Indeed, all one had to do was look at the shops lining the narrow thoroughfare, and it was obvious that this part of town had a distinctly nastier bent than Diagon Alley did. 

“Diagon Alley, Knockter Alley, what’s the difference?”

“What’s the difference? Draco, we could be killed here--we almost were!”

“Well look, we’re out of it now,” he said, and indeed, they had just made the turn onto Diagon Alley, although to tell the truth things didn’t look much better here. 

There weren’t many people about, and those that were out kept their heads down and walked briskly about their business. The shops were dark in the gloomy mid-morning light, and there were even a few boarded up . It felt wrong, like she’d been expecting a much busier, happier place.

“Where should we go now?” She asked.

“I don’t know, I thought you had a plan.”

“You’re the one who led us here!” she said, “Wait, that’s the Leaky Cauldron.”

“You remember it?”

“There’s a sign. Hey, do have any more money?”

“A little. Why, what are you thinking?”

They headed into the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. They entered and sat down at an out of the way table in the back. Then the barkeep came over to take their order.

“You two look like Hogwarts students,” he commented, peering at them suspiciously.

Draco and Ginny traded glances. “Actually,” she said, “we are, but we got a little lost--we had an apparating accident.”

“Uh huh,”

“You don’t happen to have any recommendation for getting back do you?”

“Well, easiest thing to do would be to floo to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade and then walk to the school from there. Here, let me take your orders and then we’ll see about getting you two back to school once you’ve had lunch.”

They ordered lunch, which arrived quick as a whistle, and then discussed their options as they ate.

“I can’t believe it’s only noon,” Ginny said, between spoonfuls of chowder. “It seems like too much time has passed for it to be only noon!”

“Mm,” Draco made a noise of agreement, busy spooning up his own soup, “It does. But what of this Tom fellow, do you suppose he’s trustworthy?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we don’t know him, do we? And we haven’t been having much luck with strangers today.” he leaned in close to whisper to her, “What if he’s another Death Eater?”

Ginny hadn’t thought about that. As they were finishing up their meal, Tom, the barkeep, came over to take their plates.

“I sent out an owl to the Headmaster, to let him know that the two of you would be going to the Three Broomsticks. Things have been a little dangerous lately, I think he might want to send someone to pick you up. Why don’t you two wait here awhile for a reply. If you’d like, I can let you use a back room to rest while you wait. Looks like you two could use a good rest.”

“Um, no, that’s all right,” said Ginny, “We’ll just wait out here. How much do we owe you for lunch?”

Draco pulled out the necessary coins from his pocket and paid for them. Once Tom had left them to themselves again, Draco leaned over.

“See? He may have sent out a letter, but to whom?”

“I don’t know, he could be telling the truth,” she said noncommittally, “But then, we have had some rather bad luck today.”

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t think it’s such a good idea to wait around and find out whether he’s honest or not. If he contacted someone other than the Hogwarts Headmaster, we could be in for a real nasty surprise.”

“It is a little suspicious that he wants us to wait… what did you think we should do?”

“Well, it looks like there’s a pot of floo powder over there by the fire. What’s to stop us from just flooing to the Three Broomsticks now?”

“Nothing, I suppose,” said Ginny, looking where he indicated. There was indeed a small green-glazed pot sitting on the mantlepiece. 

With a glance around the pub to see that no one was paying them any attention, and that Tom was momentarily out of sight, the two got up and headed to the fireplace. Draco went first, grabbing a pinch of floo powder, tossing it in and calling out his destination. Ginny followed suit as soon as he’d disappeared from view.

She shut her eyes and held her breath, while the green flames rose around her and various fire grates rushed past. When the world around her finally seemed to have stopped spinning, she opened her eyes and stepped out into a brightly lit pub, very different from the one she’d just left. It was cleaner and much more cheerful, and there was Draco, standing to the side, brushing himself off as best he could.

“Here,” she said, walking over to him, “let me help.”

“Thank you,” he said as she began to help knock the soot off his clothes. when she was satisfied he offered to help her as well, brushing off her back while she got her front. Fortunately they were both wearing black, so any stains didn’t show up too badly. Not that either of them was looking at their best right now, after two days without a shower.

Once clean to their satisfaction, Ginny cast a quick vanishing charm on the soot and ashes they’d tracked out of the fireplace, and they were ready to go. Fortunately there hadn’t been many people about at the pub, and they felt confident that they were unobserved as they left.

Outside of the Three Broomsticks was a quaint little village. The streets here were even less busy that Diagon Alley had been, in fact they were just about the only two out at the moment. They didn’t want to press their luck, so they hurried down the street toward the village's edge where a well worn path began.

They headed down the path without a second thought. It led into a dense forest that blocked the light, leaving them walking in gloom despite the day’s hour, which did little to lighten their mood. Once they were a sufficient ways from the village they did, however, begin to relax marginally.

"I'm sick of being attacked and not knowing who to trust!” Ginny eventually said, breaking the silence. “I mean, we were in two entirely unrelated firefights in the span of an hour; what are the odds? Now we daren’t trust anyone least we get more of the same. Does one of us have 'helpless victim' tattooed on their forehead or something?" She gestured angrily towards her forehead.

"No," Draco said, squinting at her, "but you do have something on your nose."

"I do?" Her hand automatically reached to touch her nose.

"Yeah," he said, leaning towards her, as if to get a better look. "Looks like some flecks of dirt, or... oh nevermind, it's just some freckles." His eyes were crinkled with humor as he leaned back out of her space.

"You're a jerk, you know that," she said, whacking him in the shoulder. 

"Yes, I'm a jerk, whoever I am. And you, whoever you are, are someone who enjoys pointing out people's flaws."

"Oh, stop it."

"And you're pig-headed, and stubborn, and you have a rather nasty violent streak."

"Seriously," she said, "you do not want me to start listing your flaws!"

"I never said those were flaws."

"Oh," she said, blushing a little, "well, thanks, I guess."

"Never said they weren't, either."

"Jerk!" She said, flicking out her hand to swat at him again, but this time he skipped out of reach. He was smirking, and she found her lips twitching up in response. "you've got a terrible sense of humor, did you know that?"

"Well took your mind off things didn't it?"

"Oh, is that what you were trying to do? And here I thought you were just trying to pick a fight."

"No, if I were trying to start a fight I'd--"

"Enough, I get it! You're a funny guy. I'm just worried that when we get to Hogwarts it will be more of the same of what this morning was like. What if we don't find help here? What if we don't get our memories back?"

"Well, we'll still have each other. To tell the truth, I can't think of anyone I'd rather be stuck in this situation with than you."

"Oh that's high praise, that is! Only, do tell me, can you think of anyone other than me who hasn't tried to hex you since the start of this mess, what was it, yesterday morning?"

"Well there was Ernie, but he kind of let us get kidnapped, then there was Tom, and you're a sight prettier than him, and... Now that you mention it, the world has been a little short on non-hostile people recently."

"Gee, thanks. Good to know you hold me in higher regard than a man who let someone nab us on his watch, and another who may or may not have been betraying us," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"Oh come on now, aren't you going to admit how glad you are to be accompanied by my scintillating conversation and first class sense of humor?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you fishing for a compliment there?" She said, giving him her best wide-eyed look of faux-innocence.

"Hey," he said, in a suddenly less flippant tone of voice, "when this is all over and we get our memories sorted out, we should do something together."

"Why Draco Malfoy, are you asking me out on a date?"

It took her a few moments to realize that Draco was no longer walking beside her. When she finally noticed, she stopped and turned to see what he'd stopped for. He was standing frozen in the middle of the path, staring at her with odd crinkled between his brows and his mouth agape. 

"what?" She asked.

"You just said 'Draco Malfoy'."

"So, that's your name?"

"So..." he said, with a funny sort of drawl, "You remember my name."

"Oh," she said, and then "Oh! You're right! I remembered your name!" She was so excited that she started bouncing on her heels.

"Is that it," he asked, taking a step toward her. "Do you remember anything else?"

"I don't know, I didn't even realize I had remembered your name! Do you know what this means?" She asked, grabbing him by the arms, still bouncing a little.

"It means we're actually going to get our memories back!" She said, before he could answer. Then she spun him around in a circle, and squeezed him close before releasing him to jump around some more. Both of them were grinning like fools. "We're going to get our memories back!"

"Do you realize what else this means?" Draco said once she'd finally stopped jumping around. "Think about it; you know my name. That must mean that we knew each other."

"Well, we did end up in that field together somehow. It only makes sense that we would know each other, right? Plus, if we're Hogwarts students, then we go to school together. Of course we must know each other!"

"Yes, but this proves it! And I'm positive that we are Hogwarts students."

"Do you remember?" she asked, looking like she might grab him again.

"Nothing specific, but don't you feel how familiar this place is? I just know I've been here before. It's like it's just out of reach!"

"Do you think that's why I remembered your name? Because we're back in familiar settings?"

"Who knows? It could be. Maybe when we get to the castle more will come back to us!"

As they resumed their journey, the nagging feeling of familiarity grew within Draco. When they finally turned a bend in the trail and emerged from the woods to walk along the edge of a lake, where they got their first good view of the castle, Draco was unsurprised to find that he recognised the shape of the castle. With the recognition also came a wave of mixed emotions: excitement, nostalgia, home-sickness, and a small worm of nervous fear that wriggled through his gut.

Ginny laughed and smiled at him, her brown eyes sparkling in the afternoon light. Draco returned the smile, but his eyes betrayed his unease. She sobered in response, and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. They walked the rest of the way to the castle hand-in-hand.

When they reached the double-doored entrance to the castle it was closed. Ginny stepped forward, releasing Draco's hand, the palm of which had grown sweaty, and with a glance back to her companion, she knocked on the doors.

At first nothing happened. Ginny was considering opening a door and just walking in, when it opened by itself to reveal a tall, sallow-looking man, with dark hair framing a face set in a scowl.

"You!" Ginny exclaimed in recognition. She knew this man, his name was on the tip of her tongue...

"You two!" He said, seemingly in as great a shock, or greater than Ginny. His shock only lasted a moment though, and then his stunned expression morphed into one of restrained fury. "Do either of you have any idea of what you've put your parents and the staff through in the last forty-eight hours?"

He reached out as if to grab Ginny by the arm, but froze as Draco leveled his wand at him. "Don't," Draco said.

"Do not," the man said, enunciating clearly, "presume to point your wand at me, Mr. Malfoy."

"You'll forgive me if I don't allow you to complete that motion. It has been a trying day for us, and I don't know what your motives are." Draco feared for a moment that he'd miscalculated, as the man's dark eyes glittered with some unknowable emotion. But then the man straightened, his face neutral, even as his eyes betrayed him.

"Very well," he said. "You are to accompany me to the headmaster's office immediately. If," he sneered, "that is alright with you, Mister Malfoy."

Draco hesitated. For some reason, he did not trust this man, but he also felt that they were finally close to some answers.

"After you," he said, putting his wand away in its holster. He felt like he was taking a dangerous risk here, but what choice did he have?

The man's jaw visibly clenched, perhaps biting back snide words or reigning in his temper, and turned on his heel. His robes billowed out behind him as he led the way without a glance back to see if they followed. Ginny leaned in close to Draco as they entered the castle.

"That man's a professor!" She whispered.

"I know," he replied at the same volume.

"If you knew, what were you thinking? You drew your wand on a professor!" He didn't answer her. Instead they walked the rest of the way in near silence. At one point as they were ascending a staircase, one of several, Ginny let out a cry.

"Snape!" She said. The professor they were following looked back at her with a raised brow. Draco was looking at her too. "Sorry," she muttered, her face going red with embarrassment. She gestured that they should continue.

Eventually, after several staircases and long stone corridors, they arrived at an alcove with a stone gargoyle. Professor Snape murmured the password, and the gargoyle leapt aside to reveal a narrow, twisting staircase. As they stepped onto the stairs, the steps began to move upwards on their own, carrying the three up with them. The stairs stopped at the top in front of a door. Snape knocked once and then entered without waiting for permission.

"Severus!" A voice from within the office began, "I've just had word--" He cut off as Draco and Ginny entered behind the professor. The man sitting at the wooden desk with a letter in one hand had half-moon spectacles, a long white beard, and lime green robes trimmed in canary yellow. His eyebrows arched in surprise.

"Ah, well, it seems my news is a little out of date," he said with a smile as he set down the paper he'd been holding and folded his hands. "Miss Weasley, Mister Malfoy, what a relief it is to see the two of you in my office and in one piece. Please, have a seat. Severus, would you fetch Madam Pomfrey for us?"

"Sir," Ginny began, sitting, "Am I correct that you're the headmaster?"

"Indeed," he said, his eyebrows up again. "Does this mean that you've suffered some sort of memory loss?" Ginny nodded. "And you as well, Mister Malfoy?" Draco, still standing, begrudgingly nodded as well.

"I see," the Headmaster continued, "Well, in that case, let me introduce myself. My name is Albus Dumbledore. As you have surmised, I am headmaster of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The man who just left was the potions master here, Prof--"

"Professor Snape!" Ginny said.

"Correct. So you do have some memory then?"

"Some," Ginny admitted. Draco was content to let her do the talking. "I've just started getting some of it back. There are still a lot of gaps though."

"Tell me, what do you remember of what happened two nights ago?" Dumbledore  
asked, steepling his fingers and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk.

"Nothing, I'm afraid. I woke up in a field early yesterday morning. Draco was there--though I didn't know that was his name at the time. He had a note on him that was addressed to him, that's how we figured out his name. We spent last night in a hut that was nearby. It was the only trace of human presence that we could find. We thought maybe that that was where we'd come from--I don't know. And then this morning we didn't know what to do, so we summoned the Knight Bus, but that didn't go so well."

"We were attacked," Draco said, contributing to the conversation for the first time. "By a Death Eater."

"Exactly. On the bus. He forced us off at wand point. It must have been someplace in London, because we found a back entrance into Diagon Alley, well, Knockturn Alley to be precise. There was a bit of a scuffle between someone named Mundungus and some shady wizards who may have been Death Eaters as well. We got out of that, fortunately, and found our way to the Leaky Cauldron. By the way, do you know the proprietor, Tom? Is he aboveboard?"

At Dumbledore's nod, Ginny said "I told you so!" And poked Draco in the side.

"Anyway, he gave us a meal and promised us help, but we didn't know if we could trust him or not--I mean, we'd nearly been killed twice already! So we decided to head to Hogwarts on our own. We flooed to the Three Broomsticks and then walked to Hogwarts, and, well, here we are."

"A harrowing adventure, it sounds like. I'm very glad the two of you made it back here safely. Please allow me to fill in some of the gaps for you. You see, this past Friday night, on September thirteenth, Hogwarts was attacked. Seven Death Eaters gained entry to the castle with the help of a student," his eyes swung over to Draco as he said this, and the boy’s pale complexion blanched further. 

"The two of you disappeared during the attack. You, Miss Weasley, were last seen somewhere on the seventh floor, while your whereabouts, Mister Malfoy, were unaccounted for during the attack. As you can imagine, we've been quite worried about you both. Once Madam Pomfrey gets here, I would like to contact your parents to let them know you are alright--Ah, speaking of Madam Pomfrey!"

The door to the office had opened again, admitting Professor Snape and a stern-looking matron carrying a medical bag. She headed straight for the two of them and, setting her bag on an end table, began waving her wand over Ginny. Draco tensed up momentarily, but relaxed as the scratch on Ginny’s cheek vanished. Then she tutted, frowned, and turned to wave her wand over Draco as well, making more tutting sounds as she did.

As the matron was making her inspection, Dumbledore stood and went to the fireplace, where he pulled some floo powder from a jar and threw it into the fire. In a moments time, he withdrew his head, and suddenly a plump redheaded woman and then a tall, bespeckled man stepped out of the fireplace. The woman cried out and ran over to Ginny, enveloping her in a hug.

“Ah,” Ginny said, tears springing to her eyes, “Mom!”

Then both of them were crying, wrapped in eachothers arms. Draco looked on awkwardly, but then Dumbledore was pulling his head from the fine again, and another woman walked out of the green-tinged flames, this time a dignified-looking blonde. She glanced around, spotted Draco, and the stiff look on her face changed to one of profound relief. She marched over to him, ran her hand over his hair, and began visually inspecting him for harm.

“My baby,” she said, “I was so worried.”

“Mother,” he said, pushing her hand away and glancing at Ginny. He appeared to her to be simultaneously embarrassed and confused. She probably looked no better, and with a blotchier complexion from crying to boot. 

The tears had stopped now, and her mother, with one hand still on Ginny’s shoulder, pulled out several handkerchiefs. Passing one to Ginny, she mopped at her eyes with another then loudly blew her nose. Dumbledore, who’d been momentarily forgotten in the rush of family reunion, cleared his throat for attention.

“Well then,” he said, “Now that we’re all here, how about we go over the story one more time, hm?”

“Before that,” Madam Pomfrey said, turning to her medical bag and withdrawing two vials, which she handed one each to Draco and Ginny, “I’d like you two two drink a Pepper-Up potion. Oh for goodness sakes, Mister Malfoy, it's just a Pepper-Up; don't make that face!”

After they’d downed the potions, they began their tale one more time, perhaps a little more coherently, while their parents listened and exclaimed at all of the dangerous points. Eventually, when the tale wound down, Poppy drew her wand, and began casting more diagnostic spells.

“Physically,” she said, “there’s nothing wrong with you two, aside from a little exhaustion and exposure. But you do have some lingering spell damage… I’m fairly certain it’s not Obliviate, which is both good and bad. A poorly performed Obliviate charm can, in rare cases, be irreversible. However, Obliviate is fairly common, and treatment methods are well known and easily applied. Without knowing what spell--or combination of spells--were used, treatment will be more difficult.

“Since your memories seem to be coming back on their own, it’s possible that further treatment may not be necessary. There’s a friend of mine, an expert on mind-injuries from St Mungos, who I would like to consult. I’ll send an owl out tonight. And I want to have you both spend the night in the infirmary for observation, just to be safe.”

After that things began to wind down. Ginny’s mother and father hugged her one more time before saying their goodbyes. Draco’s mother pressed a kiss to her son’s cheek and whispered to him.

“Always remember that I love you,” she said, “Before anything else, my loyalty is to my family. Before anything else!”

She then nodded stiffly to Snape and Dumbledore before following Ginny’s parents through the floo. Dumbledore then sent a message to Ginny’s head of house, telling her that the two of them had been found. 

“I imagine also that your brother will be relieved to hear that you are well,” said Dumbledore to Ginny, “Likely he will wish to visit with you before the night is out. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him stop by before dinner. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding tonight!”

Finally they were ushered out of the office and led to the infirmary by Madam Pomfrey. She sent for their robes to be fetched from their dormitories so that they could freshen up and change into clean clothes. That done, they were then settled into bed with orders to rest.


	2. In a Castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the moderators of the 2014 D/G fic exchange, to all of the other participants in the exchange, and to sunnystorms in particular, who made the prompt that I wrote this fic for. It was a lot of fun participating in the exchange and it gave me the motivation I needed to complete something. Thanks also to anybody who happens to read this (including my sister). Draco/Ginny isn't as popular as it once was, but it will always have a special place in my heart as my first OTP.

The next morning, after waking in the infirmary, Pomfrey gave the two of them their schedules and sent them out to return to their normal lives. She’d heard back from her St Mungo’s friend--“A real nice fellow, he’s even worked on celebrities!”--and been told that the best cure in a case like theirs was simply to return to familiar settings and their regular schedules. So that’s what they did.

It was awkward, to say the least, stepping into the great hall at the peak of breakfast and having all heads turn towards them. Ginny’s brother, whom she’d met last night, began waving her over enthusiastically once he caught sight of her.

“I guess this is where we part ways,” Ginny said, and began to head towards the Gryffindor table.

“Wait,” Draco said, snagging her hand, “let’s meet up tonight. Just because... Well, it’d be weird, not seeing you at all today, after… And it might be good to compare notes, on how today goes, I mean. Madam Pomfrey said it might be awhile for everything to come back to us. If we work together though…”

“Yeah,” she said, “Yeah, I’d like that. I’ll send you an owl, to let you know when I can meet you.”

“Okay, great. I’ll see you later then,” and he reluctantly let her go. 

She went over to the Gryffindor table and sat down with her brother and his friends. Her friends too, she supposed, even though none of them felt familiar to her at the moment. It was disconcerting, having people look at her and recognize her when she viewed them as strangers. Most of these people probably knew more about her than she knew about herself right now.

“--And until then we’ll all be helping you as much as we can,” her brother was saying.

“Right!” said a slender boy with mousy brown hair, “And the two of us’ve got a lot of classes together, Ginny, so I can help you out there.”

“And speaking of classes,” said a girl sitting across from her brother who had a great, wild mane of hair, “I took the liberty of copying my notes from last year’s classes. I included notes for each of the core classes, and Ron told me you’re in Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures, so I included those as well. It’s all color coded by subjects, but if you have any questions just ask me.”

The girl handed over a large sheaf of papers with color-coded tabs, and smiled at her expectantly. 

“Oh. Thanks,” Ginny said, feeling overwhelmed and trying not to show it. “I’m sure this will be really helpful.” 

Dean Thomas, a boy who’d visited her in the infirmary last night as well, glanced over at her and then away again. He was ignoring her it seemed, which wasn’t all that surprising after she’d slapped him last night. When he’d stopped in to visit he’d greeted her with a kiss before her memory loss could be explained. Surprised, she’d slapped him, and he’d left shortly after.

Now he was ignoring her, while everyone else was being overly solicitous. Navigating today, she thought, might just be tougher than being lost in the middle of nowhere with no clue where she was or how to get home.

* * * * *

Draco, meanwhile, was having a similarly difficult time over at the Slytherin side of the room. He approached the table and the buzzing of hissed whispers died down as calculating eyes turned towards him. He tried not to let his stride falter as he surveyed the table, looking for any sign of friendship--or at least an opening where he might sit. 

Finally, a boy with a build like a bulldog--and a similarly unhandsome face--caught his eye and scooted over enough to give him room to sit. Draco gave a slight nod as he sat down in the offered space; the boy looked annoyingly familiar, as did the behemoth on his right, but their names remained just out of reach. 

“Draco,” a girl with short dark hair and a cute snubbed nose said, catching his attention. She was sitting across from him, and the look that she was giving him spelled trouble, though he had no clue of what sort. “What were you and that blood-traitor, Gryff-filth talking about?”

“Her? Just the usual,” he said, trying to keep it vague.

“That didn’t look usual to me,” she said, unappeased, “In fact, you two looked rather chummy. Just what happened with you--”

“Oh leave him alone, Pansy,” said a brown-haired boy in a sneering drawl. “Rumor has it he had a very rough weekend. He’s probably a little _confused_ right now.”

The large boy sitting on the other side of the one that had made room for him gave a grunt that could have been a laugh. The bulldog-like boy seated between them was looking around in confusion. Suddenly, their names popped into Draco’s head: Crabbe and Goyle.

“And what would rumor know about it?” Draco asked, staring into the brown-haired boy’s eyes. The other looked away first, though Draco could tell that he resented it. This was not a place to show weakness. Casually, Draco grabbed a roll from the table, and taking a bite he stood up.

“Come on, Crabbe, Goyle,” he called out, and the two hulking figures he’d been sitting beside rose to follow him. “We’re getting to class early today.”

* * * * *

The day that followed was probably one of the tensest in Draco’s life. Every word he said was carefully chosen not to let on how much his memory was damaged. The boy from breakfast--Nott--was in a number of his classes; he was always watching Draco, making snide comments and trying to get Draco to slip up. It was clear that the boy had some idea of what ailed Draco, but he doubted the full extent of it was known. Draco wasn’t about to give Nott any more information than he already had, not if he could help it.

The girl from breakfast, Pansy, was frosty to him the rest of the day as well. Draco had the impression that the two of them had been close, maybe even dating, but clearly he wasn’t able to just jump right into whatever he’d left off, not without know what that had been. He tried not to intentionally provoke her, but he also didn’t want to encourage her either, in case he was wrong. It made him feel like he was juggling knives, although mostly he just said as little as possible and tried to put on the same snooty airs that seemed to be the norm for his House.

At lunch, an owl arrived from Ginny, asking him to meet up at eight in the Astronomy tower. He quickly jotted a reply, agreeing to the time and place, and sent it back with the owl. After that, the rest of the day seemed to pass in a blur.

When eight o’clock finally rolled around, Draco put his books and his homework aside--which he had been deeply immersed in as an excuse not to socialize with his housemates--and discreetly exited the Slytherin common room. Consulting a map he’d doodled during history class, and stopping twice to ask portraits for directions, Draco made his way to the Astronomy tower.

“You’re late!” Ginny said, springing up upon his arrival.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “it took me a little longer to find this place than I thought it would.”

“Oh, that’s reasonable I guess” she said, visibly relaxing, “I’m sorry, I just jumped to conclusions. I was worried you’d changed your mind about meeting up,” She dropped to the ground again, where a couple of ugly, paisley pillows had been transfigured. “I’ve just had the most awful day!”

“Tell me about it,” he said, joining her on a pillow on the floor. “At least you weren’t stuck going to classes with a bunch of… Slytherins! I have no idea how I put up with these people for the last five years. All the snide comments, the criticizing, the constant maneuvering; it’s enough to drive you mad!”

“Well at least you didn’t have to put up with everyone being so damned over-helpful,” she said, saying the word helpful like it was some kind of curse, “I have no idea who any of these people are--and they know that!--but all they do is keep bothering me, and giving me things, and overloading me with information, when I never even asked for any of their help!”

“Oh, how awful for you.”

“You say that, but if they had been mean to me, I would have been able to be mean right back. You had it easy!”

“No I didn’t! I didn’t know who anyone was either, remember? I couldn’t just go around making enemies; what if those people are normally my friends?”

“Oh, well, when you put it like that,” she said, voice sarcastic but accompanied by a smile, “Yes, be nice and friendly with the arseholes. That’s very logical.”

“Yes well, I wasn’t exactly 'friendly' either.”

“Oh, I’d already guessed that.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” he said, giving her a slight push.

She swayed exaggeratedly with his push and bumped back into him on the rebound. “Nothing! I’m sure you can be quite friendly when you try.”

“Good, because I can be. Want to see just how 'friendly' I can be?” He asked with a mischievous expression, and waggled his eyebrows. He brought up his hands as if to tickled her.

She giggled and batted his hands away. “No, that’s all right, I’ll take your word for it. By the way, how are your memories coming along? Remember anything more today?”

“Not really,” he said, letting his hands fall back to his lap. “I recognized a few people and was able to remember their names, but that’s it. There’s a lot here that’s familiar, but without a frame of reference I can’t tell how much I remember and when I’m missing things.”

“Mmhm,” she agreed, “Same here. At least I’ve got all those ‘helpful’ people ready to point out what things are, I suppose. But it doesn’t really help me remember much. It might actually be making it worse. I mean, I know Madam Pomfrey said it would take a while, and there might be some things that we never recall, but last night I thought I was so close to getting it all back!

“I mean, I remembered Snape and my mother… and then this morning it was like it was square one again. I’ve got this awful feeling that there’s something important I’m forgetting too! Something about the night of the attack; I keep trying to think back to that night, to remember, but it’s all a big blank. It gives me such a headache!”

“Yeah…” He didn’t know what to say to her. He agreed that that night was important, but he was also afraid to remember. Something that the headmaster had said in his office kept nagging at Draco. Something about there being a student who let the Death Eaters in… Draco thought he might know what that meant, but he desperately didn’t want to be right. Because if that were true, then it would mean that everything he thought he knew about himself was a lie.

Just then there was a quiet tinkling noise from the hallway, as of something made of glass dropping to the floor. Ginny looked up, a faint crinkle between her eyebrows and her lips parted to speak, and then the tower shook.

It shook so suddenly and violently that both Draco and Ginny were thrown to the ground. There was a terrible howling sound, growing in volume, and then a great ball of fire rushed up the stairwell.

Draco fumbled to get his wand out of his pocket, but there was no time. The ball of fire rolled over them, knocking them back. Ginny, he realized, must have gotten a shield up, because he wasn’t burned, although the heat from the fire made him break out in sweat. The fire dissipated into the night air, but the shaking continued, and then gravity started doing something funny.

“Get up!” Ginny yelled, grabbing him by the arm and trying to pull him up, almost losing her own balance. He didn’t know how she’s managed to stand by herself with the shaking, since with her help he was barely able to gain his own feet. Once standing, they began a stumbling dash for the stairs.

But whatever had caused the fireball and the shaking had decimated the stairwell, leaving nothing but loose rocks and rubble before a hole where the wall and part of the stairs had been.

“Jump!” Ginny yelled in his ear.

“Are you crazy?” but even as he said it, he realized what was happening; the tower was collapsing.

Spurred by that thought, he released his stranglehold on her arm, and started down the ruined starwell, slipping through the debris. She went first, one hand on the wall the other stretched out for balance, then when she came to the gap, she pushed off and jumped.

It wasn’t as bad as he’d first thought, probably less than a meter, but the hole in the side of the tower opened out into nothing but dark sky and rooftops. He looked away, focussed on Ginny where she stood waiting for him, one hand out as if to catch him. He jumped.

On the other side, his left foot landed on an unstable rock, and he fell, slamming into Ginny and sending them both rolling down what remained of the stairwell. Rocks jabbed into his back and arms, as he tried to gain control of the roll, and then he fetched up hard against a wall on the landing.

Ginny was next to him, as dazed as he was. A trail of blood seeped from her temple, the red darker than her hair. Her eyelids fluttered, and she stirred, pushing up off of him.

Then a deep voice cried out a spell, and a jet of blue light shot out of the shadows and impacted the ceiling above them. Rocks and stones came crashing down, and everything went black.

* * * * *

Waking up in the infirmary was not like waking up in a field. It wasn’t cold, for one, and for another it was a lot less painful. But it was still rather disorienting.

“You’re awake!” Madam Pomfrey came bustling over, carrying a tray with food on it. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright, I guess,” he said, sitting up. “What happened?”

“The Astronomy Tower collapsed, and you two were right in the thick of it.” It took him a moment to make sense of that, and then he remembered.

“Ginny--!”

“Is perfectly alright,” said Madam Pomfrey, pushing him back onto the bed when he’d started to rise. “At least she will be. You were both bumped about pretty good, and I’m afraid that it won’t do your amnesia much good, but you’ll both recover. She’s resting now. It seems she took the brunt of the blow, when the ceiling collapsed on you. I’ve healed you all up, but she still needs some rest.”

“But, what happened? Why did the tower collapse?”

“Well,” Pomfrey said, her mouth going thin, “It appears as though someone dropped a vial of a very volatile potion in the stairwell. It cause a rather sizable explosion.”

“Was anyone else hurt?”

“Fortunately, no. Though I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on the person who was carrying such a dangerous potion around in this school. But Hogwarts has a way of protecting and repairing herself, so no, there were no other injuries. It’s not easy to bring this old girl down.”

Then Madam Pomfrey insisted that he drink a few potions and left him to his breakfast. If he was able to hold all that down alright, then he would be fit to leave for his classes that day. Although, he wasn’t really sure that that was what he wanted to do.

As he was finishing up his breakfast, a redheaded boy came in, and Draco recognized him as Ginny’s brother. The boy headed towards Ginny’s bed, but when he caught sight of Draco he stopped, and his eyes narrowed.

“You,” he said, sounding angry.

“Me,” Draco agreed with a raised brow.

“You’d better stay away from my sister! You might have her fooled for now, but that won’t last once she gets her memory back. And in the mean time, I’ve got my eye on you, and I’m not the only one!”

“Is that a threat? You do realize we were just attacked last night,” Draco said, starting to get angry. He doubted this guy would have had anything to do with harming Ginny, his own sister, but then again, he didn’t really know what he was capable of…

“Yeah, about that,” The redhead said, stepping closer, “You might’ve tricked Madam Pomfrey and the professors into buying your helpless amnesiac story, but I don’t buy it for one second, Malfoy! You’ve pulled this kindo of trick beofore--faking hurt, pretending you’re the victim--I’m on to you. If you come anywhere near my sister again, I swear I’ll curse you into oblivion!”

“As if I would hurt the only person--Look, you’re delusional! And what do you think you know about me, anyways? You don’t know what you’re talking about! You’re just an ignorant--”

“Yeah, that’s right, insult me, just like you always do! You’re a coward Malfoy, and a vicious little snot. It’s all your fault Ginny’s hurt and you’re not going to get away with--”

They were yelling now, both of them, and the commotion drew Madam Pomfrey from her office.

“Ronald Weasley, what is the meaning of this!” She said, bustling over in an indignant fury that cut through their argument like steel. “Out, get out of my infirmary. You know very well that I do not tolerate that kind of behavior here. You’re lucky I don’t assign you a detention for disturbing my patients!”

The boy left, glaring daggers over his shoulder at Draco as he did so. And then Madam Pomfrey turned her ire on him.

“As for you, if you’re well enough to get into a bellowing contest, then you’re well enough to go to class. Out with you! And try to stay out of trouble this time!”

He set aside the empty breakfast tray and collected his things, then obeyed her instructions and left for his first class of the day. Walking into Arithmancy, just before the class began, was awkward; there was that bushy-haired girl who’d been at meals with Ginny and her brother, and when he entered, she looked up and watched him with an inscrutable expression. He chose a seat in the back, where she’d be unable to watch him once class got started. 

Some of the things that Ginny’s brother had said made him uncomfortable. He was telling the truth that he would never hurt Ginny; since he’d woken up with no memory in that field, he’d found her confidence and sassy attitude both a comfort and something of a source of attraction. Her tall, slender figure, wavy red hair, and shining brown eyes had rather compounded the appeal. And the more that he got to know her, the more he’d liked her, and as he’d said on the path to Hogwarts, he’d begun to hope that maybe once this was all over they might be able to pursue something… But things had begun to change since they’d arrived at Hogwarts. 

They were clearly from different worlds, and Draco had begun to suspect that some of the assumptions that he’d made about himself might be faulty. For one, he had not been prepared for the reception he’d received from his fellow Slytherins--Actually, he hadn’t been prepared for Slytherin house at all, for that matter. And now it seemed that someone might be out to kill him or Ginny, or both of them.

What she’d said last night popped into his mind. There was something important about the night of the attack that cost them their memories. He was afraid of what remembering it might reveal about himself, but with someone out to do him harm it suddenly became rather important that he remember.

It seemed likely that the two would be connected; if someone wanted him dead, it was probably because of something he’d forgotten about from that night. But maybe he could figure out who their attacker was without remembering that night. If he was going to suspect someone, the people at the top of his list would have to be his housemates. In particular, that Theodore Nott fellow had made it clear that he was no friend of Draco’s.

As his classes that day progressed, Draco continued to be distracted and preoccupied with thoughts of who might be after him and what exactly might have happened to warrant the attention. Also his thoughts turned to Ginny, who was still resting in the infirmary. She could have died last night, both of them could have, and if he lost her then in a very real sense he would be alone here.

By lunchtime, he had half convinced himself that it was all his fault that Ginny was hurt, and that the likely identity of their attacker was indeed Nott. He sat down at the Slytherin table next to a boy with dusky skin and immaculate hair who he recognized from his Arithmancy class. He wasn’t really hungry, but he made himself eat anyways, electing to grab a smoked salmon and dill sandwich, which he began nibbling on.

“Whatever you’re playing at, you’d better watch your back,” muttered the dusky boy he was sitting beside.

“What?” asked Draco, unsure he’d heard that correctly.

“I said, watch your elbow. You’re about to stick it in the soup.”

Draco glanced at his elbow, where there was indeed a carafe of soup nearby, although not really close enough to be in risk of encountering Draco’s elbow. And that hadn’t been at all what the boy had said.

“Excuse me,” the boy then stood, snagged his bag, and left, leaving Draco mystified and slightly apprehensive. What was that about?

Then Draco forgot about vague, ominous warnings as he caught sight of a flash of red across the hall. Ginny was entering the great hall, apparently released from the infirmary in time for lunch. Seeing her--awake, out of the infirmary, and to all appearances well--his heart started to beat a little faster. She didn’t look over or see him though. Instead, she joined her brother and his two friends--the bushy-haired girl he had arithmancy with, and the speckled git with the unkempt hair. 

Draco realized he was feeling a little off. Maybe it was the smoked salmon from his sandwich, maybe it was the ominous warning from a moment ago, or maybe it was the creeping sense of deja vu. All morning he’d been trying to put things together, but it was only now that suddenly everything clicked.

He was responsible for Ginny getting hurt. He was up to something, or he had been at any rate. It had been he who let the Death Eaters into the castle--that night was an empty spot in his memory, but now he remembered: the end of last year when his family had been so humiliated, the moment of glory when he found out that he would be entrusted with an important task, his mother crying, his aunt teaching him, and the anticipation that turned to anxiety at the start of term.

And like that, in a cascade of connected memories, he remembered who he was. And it didn’t change a damn thing, except to give him an excruciating headache. He’d lost what little appetite he’d had, so he tossed the last of his sandwich onto his plate and stood, intent on seeing Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary for a headache cure.

As he was leaving the great hall a familiar voice called his name, and he turned to see Ginny running after him. The queasy feeling in his gut intensified.

“Draco,” She said, catching up to him, “are you alright, you look a little ill.”

“I’m fine, just… have a headache that’s all,” He said. He couldn’t do this right now. He needed some solitude to think over what he knew. And he was afraid that he couldn’t continue this thing with Ginny, whatever it was. It wouldn’t be safe, for her or for him. “Actually, I’ve got a lot of work to do before class, so I’ve really got to get going.”

“Oh,” she said, looking baffled, “well, okay. I’ll talk to you later then, alright?”

“yeah,” he said noncommittally, and walked away from her. He felt like a heel, blowing her off like that, but he didn’t have any choice. He needed to think, and he needed to distance himself from her, for her own good.

He got a potion from Madam Pomfrey, then went to the library, where he found a secluded alcove where he could be alone. He took out a roll of blank parchment so that he could map out what he knew.

First he wrote his name: _Draco Malfoy_. Then he changed his mind and ripped that part of the parchment off; he didn’t want to have his name on this parchment, not if he was going to write down everything in his head. He’d have to destroy it anyway, but just in case…

Then he began again:

First, he wrote, _I let the Death Eaters into the castle_. Then he drew a big questionmark. He decided he really didn’t need to rehash waking up in the field with Ginny--though, on second thought, how was it that they’d ended up there? So he wrote: _end up in field???_ Then he left room for some blank lines, and made a bullet each for the would-be-kidnapper on the Knight Bus and the firefight in Knockturn Alley. 

Those things might have been important, but he doubted it. No, what he really need to figure out was who had tried to kill him last night. Before he’d gotten his memories back, he’d focussed on Nott as his prime suspect, now he asked himself if that still held true.

It could have been Nott, he thought. Nott had always been jealous of him, coveting the influence and position that Draco held in Slytherin. In the weeks since term had started, Nott had been the least impressed of all his housemates with Draco’s appointed task, and he’d been the most skeptical of Draco’s ability to carry it off. But Nott had never before moved against him physically, just verbally. Had that changed? 

He wrote _Suspects_ , and underlined it. Then he wrote Nott’s name below it.

And then there was Blaise Zabini, who’d given him that cryptic warning at lunch. What had that been about? Zabinis had always been neutral in regard to Voldemort, and Blaise had conformed to his mother and his uncles’ lead. He found it very hard to believe that Blaise had been involved in whatever had happened Friday night, but he decided to write Zabini's name down on the suspect list anyway.

It had occurred to him before that Pansy had been jealous of his interaction with Ginny in the great hall, and that could have motivated her to act out against him. He winced at that. They hadn’t actually been dating, but there’d always been the implication that they might someday. He was sure that she was jealous of him and Ginny, if she’d noticed anything, and she probably had noticed; Pansy was a shrewd judge of human relationships and motivations. And she could be vicious when she wanted to be.

However, he was pretty sure that Pansy wasn’t the culprit. A brute force attack like that wasn’t her style; even if she’d been mad enough at him to do him physical harm, she’d have taken another route and done something more subtle and cruel. 

There were other suspects of course; Slytherins in the years above and below his, and students in the other Houses. Damnit, he still didn’t have enough information to figure out who had attacked him! Then he had another thought. The method of last night’s attack had been a potion, and in the days leading up to his success with the Dark Lord’s mission Professor Snape had been hounding him to accept some assistance. Could it have been the professor?

He wrote Snape’s name on the list of suspects, followed it with a question mark, and underlined it. Then he realized that his break was up and he needed to get to class. He took the parchment he’d been writing on, looked at what he'd written (not much), and incinerated it with a quick incendio. Then he gathered the rest of his things and left the library headed for class.

* * * * *

It was after dinner that Ginny realized for certain that Draco was avoiding her. Earlier, she’d sent him another owl to try and set up a meeting that evening. At first she’d thought he was taking his time replying to her, or maybe something had intercepted the owl, so she’d decided to try and catch him at dinner. And then he’d practically fled the room after catching sight of her.

“Draco!” she called, but he disappeared around the corner, not even glancing back at her. That jerk, she thought as she came to a stop in the entrance hall, there was no way he hadn’t heard her. He had ignored her on purpose!

“Ginny,” her brother said, a little out of breath. He still had a roll clutched in one hand, having decided to follow her rather than finish his meal. “You shouldn’t run off alone like that. Was that Malfoy? How many times have I told you that guy’s a jerk. It’s only a matter of time before her shows his true colors.”

“Yeah,” she said, not at all in the mood for more of her brother’s anti-Draco campaign that he’d been on all day, even if at the moment she agreed with him about Malfoy. “I’ll take that under consideration. Look, why don’t you go back and finish your dinner. I’m not in any danger at the moment.”

“Not in any danger? Ginny, did you forget what happened just last night?” As they were speaking, her brother's friends Harry and Hermione had followed them out to the entrance hall. 

“Yeah,” agreed Harry, “It’s really not safe for you to go about by yourself until we figure out who’s targeting you. Why don't we all just go back to the common room together?”

“You guys go ahead,” Ginny said, “I’m going to go do my homework in the library--”

“We’ll come with you,” said Ron.

“No!” Ginny said, finally coming to an end of her patience. “Stop smothering me, Ron! I’m going to the library--by myself--It’s a public area; nothing’s going to happen there. Just give me some space for once!”

She turned and marched off, hearing her brother spluttering protests behind her. If he tried to follow her, he’d regret it. She may have forgotten a few things, but she still remembered her curses.

“Just let her go, Ron” she heard Hermione say, and then it sounded like an argument may have erupted between the two, but she didn’t stick around to listen to it.

At the library, she found a table in an open spot where she’d have a good view of anyone approaching, whether an attacker or her meddlesome brother. There was already a blonde girl sitting at the table with her head in a book, but she didn’t seem to mind when Ginny sat down and began taking out her books and parchment. She hadn’t been lying about needing to do homework.

“Hello, Ginny” said the blonde vaguely, glancing up. 

“Er, hello,” Ginny said, worrying that she was going to have another awkward conversation with someone who recognized her but not the other way around. Although, looking closely, the wide blue eyes did stir something in Ginny’s memory.

“Oh, you don’t recognize me, do you. I heard that something happened to your memory. But don’t worry, I’m used to people acting like they don’t know who I am. Actually, it might be refreshing to talk to someone who really doesn’t remember me. So, how was your day?”

Ginny, thoroughly sick at this point of people who kept expecting her to know things she didn’t, was for some reason refreshed by this girl’s attitude. 

“Actually,” she said, “It was rather awful.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. Want to talk about it?”

Normally, Ginny wouldn’t have even considered discussing this sort of thing with a near-stranger, but this girl’s attitude, and the beginnings of familiarity had her opening up. She ended up telling all about what a smothering prat her brother was being, and how Draco, her only solid friend right now, had decided to blow her off. 

“Well, maybe he had a good reason for it.”

“A good reason? What kind of reason could excuse leaving me alone when someone's apparently out to get us?”

“Well that’s just it,” the girl, who’s name Ginny remembered at some point during their conversation was Luna, “maybe he found something out, or remembered something, and thinks that he’s protecting you. I’m not saying he’s right, if that’s the case, but it could be what he’s thinking. You’d have to ask him to find out.”

“I can’t very well ask him if he won’t talk to me! If he remembered something, then he should share it with me, especially if it’s about what happened to us!”

“He might be afraid of what you’ll think. I’m sure your brother’s told you that you two didn’t really get along before all of this. Maybe he’s scared you’ll hate him.”

She scoffed, and was about to refute that when she paused. All day, she’d been remembering more, little pieces here and there, but up until now she’d been unable to put the pieces together. For all of her brother’s rants on what an annoying and evil person Draco was, she’s been unable to fully believe him, but at Luna’s matter of fact words… something sort of clicked in her mind.

“Ginny? Has a Wrackspurt gotten your thoughts?”

“No, but… Luna, Draco and I really didn’t like each other, did we?”

“Well, you did hit him with one of your Bat-Bogey hexes last year.”

“That’s right!” she said, the memory of that night coming back to her, “And he was helping Umbridge! That prat--wait, you don’t think…”

“That he was involved in Friday night’s attack? It does seem likely, but then again, most people don’t put much stock in my beliefs.”

And suddenly her theory on why Draco was avoiding made a lot more sense. She’d been angry at him before, but now she was furious.

“All this time I thought he was just a victim like me! But he wasn’t at all, was he? I mean, what are the odds that his side turned on him--that obnoxious git! This whole time he was deceiving me!”

“Well, if he’d lost his memory too, then he couldn’t have known--”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, too furious to give him any benefit of the doubt. 

She was so worked up that she could barely focus on her homework. She spent only another half hour at the library before going back to the Gryffindor tower. There, she went up to her dorm so she wouldn’t have to put up with her brothers or Harry and Hermione. Eventually, she was able to calm down enough to sleep.

* * * * *

The next morning, she went with Ron and the others down to breakfast. She was heading towards the Gryffindor table with them when she spotted him at the Slytherin table. While she’d cooled down somewhat overnight, seeing him made those feelings of betrayal come rushing back. before she could think better of it, she had marched over to him.

“Malfoy!” She said from behind him with her hands on her hips. “I thought you should know, I remembered something last night.”

"Oh?" He said in a nasty, sneering voice that immediately set her hackles up.

"Yeah, 'Oh'," she said mocking him. "Did you think you could fool me? Or did you think that when I remembered, I would really be naive enough not to see what kind of game you're playing."

"Really, Weasley, you shouldn't ask me whether I think you're stupid. The answer to that should be quite apparent."

"Who's the stupid one, Malfoy!? The whole school is on to you! It's only a matter of time before you're found out and expelled. If you think you can get away with what you've done--!"

"Ten points from Gryffindor for causing a ruckus!" Cut in a whip-crack voice. Professor Snape had appeared and was striding toward them, his expression thunderous.

"Unless you want a detention as well, Miss Weasley, I'd suggest you settle down and have your breakfast."

She made a wordless growl and spun on her heal. Blind to her her brother's righteous expression, or the concerned and admiring looks that Hermione and Harry were sending her respectively, she fled the hall.

* * * * *

She skipped class that morning, too angry and worked-up to sit still. Instead, she decided to go back to where it all began. She didn't remember the details of Friday night, but she had the fuzzy notion that something had taken place in the room of requirement.

She went to the seventh floor corridor and began pacing, thinking hard on what it was that she wanted. In a broader sense, she had no idea what she wanted, her thoughts were in much too thorough a disarray for that, but for right now what she desperately needed was more answers.

What happened the night of the attack? How had she and Draco ended up in that field?

After her third pass, a door appeared where before there had been none. She entered into a room cluttered with shelves overflowing with all the broken and discarded accoutrements of student life. 

The room was quiet, but not silent, and as she poked around, she heard some whistling and buzzing. Looking for the source of a particularly annoying vibrating whine, she pulled open a drawer in an off kilter dresser and found a clearly broken sneak-o-scope that kept spinning and whistling. She put it back and kept looking.

It was actually kind of relaxing, poking through all of this old junk, and it went a long way towards cooling her off. After a while, she even began having some fun with it.

Then, finally, she found what she was looking for. There was an area that looked even more broken and disorderly that the rest of the room, as if a disturbance of some kind had happened recently. More telling though were scorch marks on the floor.

This was it; this was where it happened. What had happened though? She looked around, trying to find something familiar, something that made sense. there were a spattering of small scorch marks on the floor, and then one big one in the shape of a half-circle. What could have made that shape? 

The nearby curios and furniture had suffered as well; there was a cabinet with black burns over the front of it, a bust with a singed wig, and on the floor next to a broken beater’s bat was a wire cage that had been half-melted. Clear evidence of some sort of fight or duel, if she had to guess. 

Just then there was a noise behind her, something falling to the floor in a clatter. She whipped around just in time to take a stunner to the face.

* * * * *

Draco felt awful after the fight in the great hall. He went to his potions class with a heavy heart. Professor Slughorn was an amiable enough fellow, and Draco didn’t have any difficulty with brewing the assigned potion, even with only half of his mind on the task.

After everything he had been through with Ginny, it felt horrid to treat her the way he had this morning. And yet in a way it had been almost easy to fall back into old patterns of antagonism. He hadn’t meant a word of what he’d said, but he’d do it again in a heartbeat; if dinstancing himself from Ginny would keep her safe then that’s what he’d do. Of course now she hated him. Again.

His thoughts kept chasing around in a circle as he chopped and crushed ingredients on autopilot. Was he doing the right thing? Without knowing who to be on the look out for, he couldn’t trust anybody. Rather the one person he could trust, he had just alientated...

Unfortunately not everyone in class was as adept at potions as he was, and even with, presumably, their full attention on the task, someone managed to make a catastrophic brewing error. A loud BANG startled Draco from his dark thoughts, and he looked up to see Crabbe dancing around, batting at his arm where his sleeve had caught on fire. 

Slughorn pushed through a group of startled students to put the fire out with a quick swish of his wand. Then the flames on Crabbe's cauldron were doused by a nearby student, as Slughorn sent the injured Slytherin to the infirmary.

Once things calmed down, Draco finished his potion, bottled it and left it on Slughorn’s desk for grading. The rest of the students were finishing their potions as well, and packing up for their next class. 

With Crabbe gone, there was only Goyle to accompany him to his next class, leaving Draco feeling even more alone and exposed then he’d been feeling before. They had Transfiguration next, and as Draco sat down and got his quill out he began to think that it was odd that Crabbe wasn’t back yet. Normally Madam Pomfrey would have a minor burn like that fixed up in a matter of minutes.

Actually, the more he thought about it, the more uncomfortable he became. True, neither Crabbe nor Goyle were really adept enough at potions making to deserve to be in the advanced class, but it was rather unusual for one of them to actually make a potion explode, especially one as innocuous as the one they’d been working on today. Had the accident perhaps been staged?

If so, then where was Crabbe now?

Draco was at this point rather worried. He raised his hand, and when Professor McGonagall, who’d been about to begin her lecture, looked up she arched her brows and called upon him.

“Yes, Mister Malfoy?”

“I’m sorry, Professor, but my head is killing me. May I go see Madam Pomfrey?”

“If you must,” she said.

He picked up his belongings and hurried from the room. He didn’t have to fake the pinched expression that he wore, though it was caused by worry rather than pain. When he left the classroom he began heading in the direction of the medical wing. It was the best place to start, he figured, and if he didn’t find Crabbe there then he’d look in their dormitory (after all, the oaf may have just decided to skip class today--maybe he was worrying over nothing).

But as he neared the infirmary another idea began to nag at him. He veered from his path and followed his intuition to the seventh floor. There was something about this place… This was the place where Potter and his cohort had held those secret meetings last year. But there was something else, he felt, only it was just out of his mind’s reach…

He began pacing, having made the decision to check the secret room, if just to rule it out. Although he doubted Crabbe even knew about this room. But Ginny certainly did…

On his third pass a door appeared. He opened it and entered into a room of crowded shelves and piles of oddments and rubbage. It was too crowded to tell just how large the room was, which meant a quick perusal was out of the question. He stepped inside anyways, and began looking down aisles. There was something familiar about this room, something important.

Just then he realized that he wasn’t the only one in the room either. There, kneeling next to a cupboard was the hulking back of Vincent Crabbe. Behind him a black-clad form was sprawled on the floor, her red hair like a spill of blood.

“Ginny!” Draco called out, drawing his wand. “What did you do to her, Crabbe?”

Ginny didn’t stir, but Crabbe stood and spun to face him. His lumpy features pulled into a scowl.

“I knew you’d come for your little blood-traitor girlfriend,” said Crabbe, “Did you think that I didn’t notice the way that you looked at her after she blasted you with that nasty booger hex last year? Just like in third year, when you started mooning after Granger after she slapped you. You’re a real twist, you know that?” 

“Mooning after Granger?” Draco was thrown by the unexpected accusation, “You’ve got to be kidding me. The only thing I ever wanted with that mudblood was to get her kicked out of school.” 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Malfoy! You always treated me n’ Greg like we was idiots, but you’re the idiot! Getting mixed up with trash like her. You’ve forgotten who you were--or maybe you were never who I thought you were. My dad always told me to stick close to you, that you’d do right by me. But you’ve always been a little whiny prick. And now, I’m going to show you which one of us is better once and for all.”

“Don’t be stupid, Vince!” said Draco, but he knew right away that those were the wrong words. Crabbe's scowl twisted into a look of fierce anger, a look that Draco had never seen the other boy direct at him before.

“I’m not going to let you ruin our master’s hard work! All of my hard work! You’re not the only one who made Friday night’s raid happen. But no one’s ever going to know that; all their going to see is that the little Weasley here found you out. She confronted you in the room where it all happened! You killed her, but she didn’t go without a fight, and in the end, you both lay dead and cold. How sad.”

* * * * *

She was dreaming, she knew that, but it felt more real than a dream. 

She was in the room of requirement, in its storage-room incarnation, and she wasn’t alone. Draco was with her. As happens in dreams sometimes, she felt like she knew what was going to happen just before it happened.

“You’re a fool, Weasley, if you think this is going to end well for you,” Draco said. For some reason his hands were tied in front of him with what looked to be his Slytherin tie. A lump was forming on his head. 

“If you untie me now, I’ll spare you,” he was saying, but she was ignoring him. Instead, she was looking around desperately. pacing around looking for something. A way out… THUMP! A loud noise from the room’s entrance startled her and sent her running back to the front of the room where Draco was tied up. He was still slumped on a trunk though, where she’d left him. 

THUMP! The noise came again, from the door, she could tell this time. Someone was trying to get in. She swore under her breath and went over to Draco. She waved her wand, undoing the leg-locking jinx that held him in place, and gestured that he should get up.

“Get up,” she said, and when he didn’t comply, she grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him up. She pushed him ahead of her and jabbed her wand into his back. “Tell me how they got into the school! I know they came in through here; how did you do it? Tell me, or I’ll set my bat-boogies on you!”

“Calm down!” He said, a note of fear entering his voice, “It’s this way, alright?”

He began leading her deeper into the room while she kept her wand aimed at his back. The thumping on the door continued. It sounded like they were blasting it with curses now; It wouldn’t hold much longer.

He led her to a cupboard and stopped.

“This is it?” She asked.

Just then, there came an explosion from the front of the room. They were in! She grabbed Draco and spun him around so that she was shielded behind him. There was the thumping of running feet, then a blast of green light shot down the aisle, missing them by half a meter. Draco shrieked, and tried to dodge, but she held him in place.

“Stop!” he yelled, “You’ll hit me!”

Two figures came towards them, a woman with dark hair and a twisted grin and a squat, hunchbacked man.

“It’s Malfoy’s brat!” The woman said.

“Wasn’t he supposed to be garding the cupboard?” said the man.

“You dare to betray us!?” the woman shrieked, bring up her wand.

“Wait, sister. Look, his hands are tied,” He said, gesturing towards Draco with his wand.

“That’s right,” said Ginny, “Don’t come any closer, or I’ll blast the two of you to pieces! And don't shoot, or you'll hit Malfoy!”

The woman gave a shriek of laughter, her brother wheezing along with her. Chuckling, they advanced on Ginny and her hostage. Ginny threw up a shield, but at the same time Draco rammed his elbow into her, having somehow gotten his hands free.

Simultaneously, the two Death Eaters shot off curses. Two jets of light shot towards Draco and Ginny. The beams impacted with her half-formed shield and exploded! She felt herself lift into the air and fly backwards, crashing through the doors of the cupboard behind her.

Everything went dark.

* * * * *

She woke up, laying on the floor of the room of requirement in front of the same cabinet that she and Draco had crashed through in her dream. There were voices arguing loudly right behind her. She recognized them; one was Draco, the other--she looked up--the other was one of his lackeys, either Crabbe or Goyle.

“Don’t be stupid, Vince!” Draco was saying.

“I’m not going to let you ruin our master’s hard work! All of my hard work! You’re not the only one who made Friday night’s raid happen. But no one’s ever going to know that…”

Ginny had heard enough. She felt around in her pocket for her wand, but it was missing. Looking around, she noticed their was a broken beater’s bat right in front of her head. Carefully, she stood up, picked up the bat and turned around.

She caught Draco’s eye. he couldn’t have missed her standing, but he didn’t say anything, instead he casually slid his eyes back to Vince and began some smart arsed remark. She took aim and, with all her might, swung the bat at Vince’s head.

The bat impacted with a tremendous CRACK, and Vince dropped like a stone. She stood over his prone body with the broken beater’s bat in her hand, breathing heavily.

“I told you so,” she said, between pants.

“What?”

“About the Knight Bus. It just occurred to me I never rubbed it in your face. I told you that was a bad idea, and then look what happened. You’re full of bad ideas, Malfoy.”

"You're right," he said, running his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry about that. And about everything. I've been wrong about a lot recently."

"Yeah," she said, "You have been. But thanks for coming to save me."

"Looks like you didn't really need my help, though."

"I didn’t."

"Look, about this morning," he said, unable to look her in the face, "I didn't mean any of what I said. I think you're brilliant. These last couple of days... if you hadn't been there... would you be my girlfriend?"

"What!? You're asking me that now?" She said, gesturing to Crabbe's prone body with the bat she still held.

"Oh, yeah. We'd better get him to the infirmary. Oh, and tell the headmaster what happened. But still, what do you say? Will you go out with me?"

"Draco, there's so much between us... you've been such a prat to my brother and my friends--you let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts!"

"I know, but I've changed! These past few days... what I saw out there with you... and even before that; I never meant for any of this to happen,” he held up a hand at her incredulous look, to forestall her from interrupting. “Yes, at first I thought I was doing the right thing--The way I'd been raised, my family! you have to understand--But, things were happening that I never intended--"

"But you did it! You did it anyway! Draco, I like you, but I--"

Draco did something rash then; he grabbed Ginny by the sides of her face and he kissed her, full on the mouth. It hadn't worked so well for Dean Thomas, but Draco had heard the words "I like you" and that was enough for him. If she wouldn't listen to his words, then this was his last chance to change her mind. If only she'd give him a chance...

It wasn't a rough kiss by any means, but it was solid, and sure. Her lips parted under his, and he took the opportunity to sneak his tongue into her mouth, questioningly, and then deepening the kiss at her encouragement.

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, giving one last gentle press of his lips to hers before releasing her. 

"We have a lot to work out," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "but if you'll have me, I want to make things work. I'm not the same person I was before I got lost with you. I don't know who I'll be tomorrow, or what will happen, but I think I might be falling in love with you, Ginger. Can you honestly say you don’t feel the same?"

Her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip, which felt puffy and sensitive from the kiss.

"Alright," she said, "lets give this thing a try. But first I think we need to take care of this mess."

They put a stunner on Crabbe, just to be sure he’d stay out, then they levitated him to the hospital wing. There, after hearing an edited version of their story, Madam Pomfrey sent for Dumbledore. The headmaster arrived, and invited the two of them up to his office to give a full accounting of events.

“So your memories have returned in their entirety, then?”

“I believe so,” said Ginny, after telling him the details of what she had remembered of Friday’s attack. “What’s going to happen to Draco and Crabbe now?”

She and Draco were seated side by side in front of the headmaster’s desk. At some point during the retelling, one of them had grabbed the others hand, and they now sat next to one another with their hands clasped. 

“Well, I’m afraid that Mister Crabbe’s crimes are rather serious. Kidnapping a fellow student, and threatening their life and the life of another… I don’t have much choice but to expel Mister Crabbe, and put in a call to the Aurors while I’m at it. As for Mister Malfoy here…”

Draco tensed next to Ginny, and she tightened her grip around his hand.

“Well I’m afraid that the only evidence that we have of his crimes is your testimony, Miss Weasley, and while I have no doubt as to your honesty, any punishment we pursued against Mister Malfoy would likely be contested by his mother,” the headmaster said with twinkling eyes, “After all, you did just suffer not one, but two serious head injuries. It’s well known that your memory has not been entirely trustworthy of late.

“That being said, I will not be administering any punishment against you, Mister Malfoy. However, the crimes that you are accused of are very serious indeed. For the remained of the school year you will be under very close watch from myself and the rest of the staff. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir,” said Draco, not really believing his luck. And then something occurred to him.

“Headmaster, during the attack, what were the whereabouts of Professor Snape?”

“The Professor? Why, he was in the Dungeon, ensuring the safety of Slytherin House. Why do you ask?”

“I see,” said Draco, looking a little uncomfortable, “Well, it’s just that… Snape is a friend of my father’s. The week before the attack, the Professor was very interested in helping me out--In whatever I might need help in. I thought perhaps it was possible… that he might have been involved in something else that night. That’s all.”

“Ah, well, thank you for your concern Mister Malfoy. I will take that into consideration. Lemon drop?”

Their conversation wrapped up, and they were sent off. Due to that mornings events and the debriefing with Dumbledore they’d missed lunch, so they decided to go to the kitchens together to grab a bite to eat. 

Dumbledore had excused them from classes for the rest of the day, counseling them to spend at least some of the time studying, so they took their time. When they finished, they decided to take a walk around the grounds and get to know one another better.

On their way back in, they bumped into Ron, who seemed somewhat frantic--he’d probably been looking for her, Ginny thought. He took one look at the two of them and his expression crumpled in misery.

“No!” he whined.

“Actually, yes,” Ginny said, “sorry, Ron.”

Then, slipping her arm through Draco’s, she marched him away before Ron could rally himself into a rant.

“Oh,” said Draco, with a sly look at Ginny as she led him away, “This is going to be fun!”

**Author's Note:**

> Original Prompt: Far from home, Draco and Ginny wake up with no memory of their family background. (So they still remember basic things like the fact that they're wizards etc., just not who they are exactly). They recognize each other but have no idea what relation they are to each other.


End file.
